


Adapt and Overcome

by GriffonRyder



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Reader-Insert, Some Plot, and there will be sex, reader copes with their trauma with humor and being an obnoxious shit, tags will be added as they come up but just know reader is gonna be a simp for Alcina
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:22:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29684607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GriffonRyder/pseuds/GriffonRyder
Summary: You've come to this village to find out intel about a new threat rising in Romania. What you find is a big, hot vampire lady. And you know what they say, the enemy of my enemy is my friend.
Relationships: Lady Dimitrescu (Resident Evil) & Reader, Lady Dimitrescu (Resident Evil)/Reader
Comments: 40
Kudos: 196





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote three chapters at once so reader can get to meeting Alcina for the first time.

Baseball cap? Check. Obnoxiously large camera? Check. Fannypack? Unfortunately, check. You were just glad you were able to convince HQ that you didn’t need to be wearing socks and sandals. You needed to be able to GTFO if shit hit the fan. Plus you were supposed to look like the average American tourist but even the dreaded socks and sandals combo was taking it too far. At least the college branded t-shirt and hat screamed “why yes, I am an alumni of this American college. I do enjoy its sports teams. Go team!”

“Remember, be a normal American tourist. Do tourist things.” You murmured as you readjusted your hat, trying to find the most proper curvature of the bill so it looked natural and not like the higher ups had given you this hat before the mission. No, that certainly wouldn’t be the case. 

Satisfied, you shoulder your daypack and go to leave the shitty, rundown inn that HQ insisted was safe. You strongly doubted it. But the target had many of the villagers under her thumb…whether by true loyalty or fear…only time, and you, would be able to tell. 

People talked where food was served, that’s the advice to received from the more seasoned folks…so you followed your nose. The smell of some sort of savory food that seemed promising was wafting down the street. You couldn’t read the script or understand what the name meant but you at least knew from briefings that it was a restaurant owned by a man named Bogdi, so Bogdi’s it was. Bogdi was neutral or so the initial recon told you. People needed a safe place to congregate and eat but any true rumblings of anything were said to be snuffed out. The perfect place for a loud-mouth tourist to go. 

Eyes were on you the second you walked in, the small space going quiet. For a moment you felt like you were in a western, busting into the local saloon. 

You walked to the counter and smiled widely and obnoxiously at the man who was working, presumably Bogdi. “Hi! How are you?” you cringed internally but, hey, you survived Raccoon City…you could survive this. You ordered a coffee and a pastry for breakfast, light and cheap. No superfluous spending money while on the job. Bogdi served it to you with a suspicious expression which you replied with a thousand-watt smile. You pretended to take a few selfies and even a few photos of your small breakfast. You hated acting like this.

The normal chatter had returned, hushed whispers but HQ would be able to listen and translate. You fiddled with your camera for a moment, the battery was full and the SD card empty, just as it was when you left but it never hurt to check. You spent some time pretending to scroll on your phone but a young man, his face small and tinged red like a mini-version of Bogdi…presumably his son, came to your table, frowning. 

“You should go.” Bogdi Jr. said, menacingly. Was your life suddenly a horror film? Well technically it already was Ms. “I survived Raccoon City and all I got was this lousy t-shirt and trauma” You just looked at the young man, confused “you are done with your meal. We need the table for other customers.” Well that was a polite way to put it, though, you had to wonder if that was truly the case. In the thirty minutes you had been sitting there, not another soul had come in. Strangers made people uneasy.

“Oh Em Gee.” You exclaimed, trying not to gag, “I'm sooo sorry. I was just texting my sorority sisters about how just so cute and rustic this place was. I'll get out of your hair ASAP.” You shot the baffled young man a wink and began to pack up. The conversation in the room had died down as well. So much for that intel. 

You exit the restaurant and mentally flip through your rolodex to determine where to go next. A young girl selling flowers catches your eye. She has a small, round and chubby face with ruddy cheeks. Her dress was pale blue and honestly she was the damn cutest thing you had seen since arriving in the town. Her father or older brother you presumed was next to her chopping wood. The little girl saw you and waved, smiling shyly. How precious. You smile and wave back, the man now taking notice and quickly beginning to usher her back inside towards their home. How bizarre.

Your eyes flit up and down the street at the hustle and bustle of people going about their business and the sudden realization hit you.

Where were all the young women?

Fear, all too familiar, crept up your spine so you took out your camera and snapped a few candid shots of the locals. Most ignored you while those who did take notice said nothing. Why bother with an obnoxious American tourist? The perfect cover. There were a couple of major landmarks besides the big, damn scary castle in the distance that you wanted to check out first.


	2. Chapter 2

Your search for intel dredged up nothing…but nothing was evidence in itself.

The church was creepy but not abandoned. Your photos of the place were a ghost hunter’s wet dream and the people working the grounds didn’t ask questions and ignored the American taking photos and selfies in front of their church. When you tried to ask questions about when it was built etc, you were promptly ignored. 

The old mill was fairly similar as well, though, a young boy asked to see your photographs. You showed him a quick few photos you had taken of the town and village before he was whisked away by a stern looking man. They really didn’t like outsiders in this village.

And once again, trekking across town to two distinct locations once again showed the lack of something very distinct in town. There were no young women in view. The females present, to put it scientifically, were young girls or middle aged and above. No teens or young women.

Working theory, there was an ongoing spontaneous event that caused many young girls in the village to instantaneously become adult or elderly. Wouldn’t be the first time.

Another working theory, teens and unmarried women might not be allowed outside their homes. More plausible, less exciting. But boring was good. And meant less evil mold.

Amidst the absolute nothing happening, your phone rang. You looked at the screen rolled your eyes when you saw the name MOM with heart emojis surrounding it . You ready your finger to answer but a hand gripped your wrist suddenly. Your eyes flit from your wrist to the woman who had suddenly appeared like out of a damn horror film. 

“You must go inside.” She warned, dragging you into her home. An odd turn of events but a turn of events was productive. No matter how horror movie like this was becoming. 

You let yourself be dragged into her home, the woman and her husband shutting the curtains and covering the windows.

“wha-?” they shush you immediately. Your view of the outside world cut off, you go to your next sense, hearing. Bells were now tolling and it wasn’t even on the hour. Bizarre…bizarre was productive. You cycled through your other senses but nothing of value was gained, unless the smell of a cooking dinner would provide you valuable intel. You took another quick glance around the house you had been shuffled into, a young girl in her teens was huddled in the corner. Well, so there went the spontaneous turning into adult women and old ladies theory.

Loud screams and what sounded like…barking? It was more like a roar than a bark. But you weren’t an animal expert. 

The screaming was angry and fearful. You look back at the family, the father, or who you presumed was the father, was silently pacing back and forth; his hands twirling a rather gnarly looking ax in his hands. You would definitely put this family down as “maybe” allies. You pressed record on your camera and hoped that the mic would be able to pick up the screams that you could hear.

The sound of a pained scream pierced through cacophony of sounds, familiar as your own name. Raccoon city made sure you knew what that sounded like. Your body tensed up, the urge to run and escape bubbling up like bile in the back of your throat. Your eyes flitted over to the wife and daughter, they seemed worried…afraid….but not terrified or horrified. A small boon. 

The barking and the screaming faded out, growing more distant. Wailing was the only constant sound but even that quieted so it couldn’t be heard from inside your temporary shelter. 

“They may still be looking for you.” The teen girl piped up. You tensed, immediately on-edge. 

“To the basement.” The father said, his hand sweeping toward the back room. Fuck. It was Louisiana all over again. 

“I'm good. I need to go and call my mom.” You begin to back away slowly to not draw his ire and to get some distance between you two. 

“The basement leads to the outskirts.” The mother clarified, possibly to explain as your panic was apparent on your face. “you are a reporter, yes?”

How? Your cover was supposed to be airtight, “something like that.” You say, massaging the back of your neck where the camera strap was digging in a bit.

“We had hoped. You look like a tourist but you ask too many questions. Probably why you drew Heisenberg's attention.” Shit. You begin to follow the direction the father indicated, stopping near a door the wife was waiting at. 

“So my questions alerted this “Heisenberg"? Who is he?”

“The lady of the castle's brother. Her wild dog. He sweeps into town with his pack and scoops up our daughters to take them to the castle. They are never seen again.” 

Ah. Hide your kids, hide your wives. A big risk, though, helping a stranger. No one cared about obnoxious tourists, why else did Louisiana go on for so long? These people should have let you get snatched by Heisenberg. The screams and wailing was probably another family losing their daughter. “so why help me? An outsider?” Their faces grim and tight as they opened the door toe the basement. The wife went down first, a lantern lighting the way, then you, and then the husband. Why was your life determined to be a horror movie?

“Because you are a reporter. You can get the word out and we can stop worrying about our daughters being taken and killed.” The man growled. You reached the bottom of the stairs, turning and looking over your shoulder. His arms were limp by his side but he gripped the axe tightly, unshed tears welled up in his eyes…daughters? Something told you that teenager upstairs had a sibling at one point. 

The husband pushed and pulled a heavy looking pile of furniture and mess out of the way, revealing a passageway that screamed scary-murder-hole.

“The passageway will take you to the outskirts. Once there, run and don’t come back. We need someone to help save our daughters.”

“I will.” You lie. That wasn’t the mission. But if you could sneak up to the castle to get more…intel…well…eventually saving the village's daughters could be in the cards. Maybe. 

You turn the camera off and squeeze into the passage way, the scraping of wood and metal behind you signaling that the family had closed the door behind you. Ahead, it was dark with little pinpoints of light towards the end. You try to pretend that the squeaks and sounds are just wood and not live rats. You pretend that the crawling on your skin isn’t bugs or other ick. That is what you're good at, pushing away the fear and trauma and putting one foot in front of the other…or at least shuffle forward since the passageway was too narrow for you to actually walk forward. 

Time passed slowly in the dark. Or was it being alone with your thoughts that did it? Well…just you and whatever creepy crawlies you ignored. 

The narrow passageway quickly terminated into a wide room, small bulbs lit the room in an almost cozy glow. You shook off the not-bugs and checked your phone. No follow-up texts from MOM but you knew they would be worried. You could call back but…

“Heisenberg might ruin everything.” You whisper, adjusting the camera around your neck. If someone involved in the village's mishaps was asking questions then that would spook HQ. And they would pull you out and shutter the mission. And then they'd sit by with their hands over their ears ignoring this village way out in the middle of nowhere. 

And then they'd nuke it. Just like Raccoon City. Why try to solve a problem when you can shove a nuke up its ass and destroy it?

Angry thoughts swirling in your head, you shake them free. No, you’d finish the mission. If this was something that could be taken care of quietly, a direct assault on the castle, get in and out, HQ would do it. Save those who could be saved, kill those who couldn’t.

The outside smelled wonderous compared to the dank, earthy mud pit that was the basement. The castle loomed in the distance, oppressive and impressive all at once, the architecture something straight out of the dark, nightmarish horror film that was shaping up to be your life.

“No guts, no glory.” You whisper, preparing yourself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am taking cues from Outlast here. Reader isn't much of a fighter. But can film and take photos.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one has violence in it against Reader. It gets kinda graphic? But no worries, reader won't die. I basically just took the Maiden demo and remixed it. Also used my own interpretation of what the daughter's names could be.

You are perched in what you think is a secure location, your binoculars viewing down into the grounds of the castle. No one really seemed to go in or out that seemed monstrous or scary. 

You shuddered at the blowing cold, you were certainly not dressed for this weather. You closed your eyes for a moment and concentrated, heat beginning to warm your frozen toes and fingers. A little luxury. 

You checked your watch, still quite a bit of reserve energy left but you couldn’t keep spending it on warming your extremities. Who knows when the next sunny day was?

“Next time HQ better send my ass to the Bahamas.” You murmur, returning your eyes to the binoculars. 

There was a crumbling wall that could lead to the castle grounds, a way in.

You readjusted your hat and made sure your camera's battery was good before quietly making your way to your decided entry-point. You quickly shuffled sideways through the crack and dove as quickly as you could behind the nearby shed, blocking the view of anyone who would be looking out at you. You froze and waited for the oncoming onslaught of, well, anything that could be lurking inside those walls and that could of seen you. No screaming, no inhuman growling and/or howling, not even a groan.

Nothing. 

You remembered seeing a door that, hopefully, led inside the castle as most doors were want to do. It was small and out of the way so probably some sort of servant's entrance. Maybe for whoever was supposed to be the groundskeeper as it was fairly near the shed you were skulking behind. You snapped a few photos for intel before, quickly and quietly, making your way over. 

You peaked through the window next to it. Not a soul in sight. You jiggle the door knob, locked. 

Shit.

You take a deep breath and concentrate, your hands holding onto the knob, and then you turn very hard.

You broke the knob. But now the door was open. You enter into a mudroom, boots and other mysterious stains littering the floor. It looked suspiciously like blood…

Fuck.

It probably was. 

You found a heavier looking boot and placed it in front of the door you just entered, keeping it from swinging open…at least for now. 

There was nothing of note besides the blood, but you took a few photos anyways. 

The next door over was ajar. You hoped that no one heard you break the other door and silently walked over, peering out into what looked like a rather shabby looking hallway. 

You pressed the door open a little more and listened for any signs of life or undeath. Nothing. 

You snapped a few more photos and stepped into this hallway. There were more doors up and down it, this was probably some sort of servant’s wing. 

There was a more open archway a little down the hallway, some noise seem to be coming from. A small click of your camera and you made your way down there. A peek around the corner showed some grim looking men and women dressed in what looked to be servant’s clothes busying themselves but had yet to see you. A set of bells hung on the wall and you had seen enough Downton Abbey to know they were pulled for the mistresses and masters of the house to summon their staff at will to any room. Could be useful to lure any staff away or to a location. You snapped a photo and quietly crept away. 

You found a few servant’s quarters and ducked out of the way for any quietly making their ways up and down the halls, remaining unseen.

Most of the doors were locked but breaking them seemed excessive, you didn’t need to go barging in every which way. 

A few rooms were unlocked and empty. They revealed not much either except for a few journal entries from the 1950s. How bizarre. But there was a common theme, they mentioned the Lady of the house and her three daughters. Three names seemed to pop up most often, “Daniela, Gabriella, and Samantha.” The journal entries talking about how wild they were or how the Lady gives her worst behaved servants to her daughters. You snap photos of those pages and begin forming a mental dossier. Four targets, one ring leader, three subordinates, daughters. Might not even be by birth but still considered as such. 

You quietly make your way through the castle, almost gasping in surprise when you realize you've come into the main foyer. A grand chandelier hug above the floor. It was beautiful. You snap a photo for posterity, pausing to check your camera's battery life and if you needed to switch out the SD card.

“I can’t wait till dinner!”

What?! Angry buzzing reached your ears as you looked up and saw a young, blonde woman perched on the banister above. Insects of some type surrounding her in a cloud as she looked down at you. 

Oh fuck that. 

You take off running in the opposite direction, barely sliding to a stop when the cloud of insects swarmed past you and then the blond woman from before materialized in front of you, blocking your retreat to what you had hoped were the doors out.

Double fuck that. 

“Nope, nope, nope!” You back-pedaled as she cackled, lunging at you and catching you by surprise at her speed. You were now face to face with a manically laughing woman whose mouth was covered it was certainly NOT strawberry jam. 

Her mouth opened wide and you could see fangs.

Vampires?! 

You head-butt her straight in the nose, the pain exploding stars behind your eyes, but it was enough for her to release you as she grabbed at her injured nose. 

You run to the door, tugging and pulling as hard as you could but it was locked. Shit. Time to break another door. You concentrated and focused and pulled as hard as you could.

Right as the door flew open.

You went tumbling backwards, landing ungracefully on your ass. 

You look up and that’s when you see…her. And all that came to mind was ‘Damn. That’s a big bitch.’

She looked from you on the floor to the woman you head-butted, still letting out a stream of curses as she held her broken, for now, nose. Two women dressed identically as the blonde flanked the big lady, though one was a brunette and the other a red head.

Daniela, Gabriella, and Samantha. 

Which could only mean the big lady was…the Lady. Fuck. 

“Well what do we have here?” she crooned. “Daniela, quit your complaining.” Daniela was the blonde one you head-butted. Noted. 

“Look I am just a tourist and found myself here. I'll just be going.” You stand and try to back away but the Lady's gaze roots you to the spot. Oh…she was pissed. 

“You broke into my home and assaulted my daughter.” She explained as if to an idiot. “I cannot abide that transgression.”

Her arm lashed out and her hand engulfed your throat, lifting you with ease. Oh shit.

“It's just business, dear.” Her other hand quickly elongated into knife-like fingers. Oh double shit. And then she stabbed you. The pain burned inside as she stabbed and then sliced, your guts spilling onto the floor. The daughters started laughing as you frantically began trying to stuff them back inside. Was this all a joke to them? You tried to stand but couldn’t, maybe her claws clipped your spinal column? You began to slowly crawl, ignoring the pain, towards the open door behind her. 

“Well aren’t you pathetic?” she said, sighing. 

‘Don't be a dick, don’t be a dick.’ You prayed. Just let the poor, crawling, dying girl out of the castle. You focused and groaned as you concentrated on what needed to be done. 

“You're almost there, you can do it!” one of the girls cackled as they began to fake cheer. 

Your hand touched cold snow. And you looked out at the grounds. The wall you entered from would be at your 8 o'clock. You could make it. 

So you focused. You shut out their cackling and concentrated. 

You hopped to your feet, still wobbly, but it would do. 

“Gotta jet, ladies!” You snap a photo of their astonished faces and take off. 

You pushed energy and concentration towards your legs, heart, and lungs. Increased blood flow, oxygen capacity, and muscle. Usain Bolt who? Screams of rage and dismay tore behind you, oh yeah, they would probably give chase. You exit through the wall from before and take off. A large forest stretched out before you. The villagers would give you up, or at least most of them, could you hide?

You switched gears to climbing, sweating as you were expending a lot of energy fast. You were high up now, straddling a thick branch, and hugging the trunk, concentrating again. You watched as your skin and clothes began to change color to match the trunk and tree. You closed your eyes and began to breathe deep and slow, reducing your heart rate drastically. Seconds would pass between beats.

The sisters arrived at where your trail disappeared, loudly arguing about how you could have disappeared and survived their mother's wrath. They swarmed in different directions as they quickly decided arguing was not the smartest idea lest they incur their mother’s wrath themselves.

You could go behind them, choosing to follow one sister…but they might double back and you would be faced with an angry swarm of lady and not in a sexy way. 

An idiotic idea came to mind. 

Where is one place a lion wouldn’t assume its prey is hiding? In its den, of course. No prey was stupid enough to that. Except you were. You slowly turned your gaze back to the castle. 

“You're either a dumbass…or brilliant.” You murmur, taking effort to climb down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, so reader has powers. Not gonna beat around the bush, but it's nanomachines basically. Think Metal Gear Solid 4 and 3 basically. Hence the energy comments. Reader is solar powered.
> 
> As for the daughter's names, I looked up what the name Daniela could mean and it means "God is my judge." So I came up with godly-esque names for the rest of the girls so it becomes a prayer when you say all three in a row. "God is my judge. God is strong. God has heard." Daniela=Daniel, Gabriella=Gabriel, and Samantha=Samuel.


	4. Chapter 4

With the daughters off galivanting, chasing you down in the forest and beyond, you knew you had quite a bit of time before they came back to the house. Maybe at least until nightfall. Your feet were beginning to freeze again in your shoes but you couldn’t risk expending anymore energy, at least until you could recharge. 

You entered through the same wall that you had previously used, chuckling to yourself and wondering if they would eventually patch that up. Hopefully for at least not a hot minute. The door you had previously used was now boarded up, fuck. They worked fast…probably on pain of death. But maybe you could sidle along the wall and not be noticed, hopefully find an open window in the best case or bust one open in the worst. 

You slowly pressed yourself against the wall of the castle, trying to avoid leaving footprints where you could avoid it. 

You saw a window open…a window of opportunity as it were. You almost cackle at the thought. You sneak underneath it and wait, slowing your heartbeat again. You weren’t sure what a “vampire’s" powers could be and how it was derived from whatever virus…but it couldn’t hurt to be cautious…and it helped conserve power. 

“No, Mother Miranda, I'm not sure where she came from or what she was doing here.” The voice of the Lady of the castle drifted from within. Oh. This was her office or bedroom or something. You sneak a peek over the window's ledge, she's staring angrily at her lovely reflection as she talks on the phone. You settled back down…who was Mother Miranda? Your mental rolodex held no mention of her and she wasn’t even mentioned as the main target. The Lady of house Dimitrescu was. Was intel wrong? Your anxiety for a moment bubbled up like bile in the back of your throat; fear clutching at your heart and making the world tunnel in. 

Runrunrunrun. Youweregoingtodie. Limbsstrewnonthefloor, fleshdevoured. Screamsinthedistance.

You breathed deep, hoping she wouldn’t hear you, and focused. Tamping down the fear and anxiety that had dug its claws in your brain. Who needed happy pills when you could literally just will yourself out of a panic attack with a little bit of sunshine? Maybe one day you would see a therapist…but today was not that day. You smirked, licking your lips to wet the dry, chapped surface.

“No, Heisenberg and the girls are already looking. We don’t need to involve Moreau--" she was cut off, you could just barely hear whoever it was, presumably Mother Miranda if it wasn’t just a cute pet name Lady Dimitrescu called people, on the other line talking over her. She also didn’t seem like the type to appreciate being interrupted. You snuck another glance, her pretty face pinched in a pissed off expression. Damn, she was angrier than when she stabbed you. You would hate to see her when she is in a rage. Or maybe you would. That’d be hot.

“So Moreau and Beneviento are already out searching, that is what you're telling me?” 

Mother Miranda replied.

“You can’t do that. This land has been in my family for generations--"

She was cut off again.

“Of…of course Mother Miranda.” She sounded resigned as she quietly listened to whatever Mother Miranda said next. And then a loud slam, the ground shaking. You glanced and she had slammed the phone down, though, how it did not break was a mystery. Probably a Nokia. 

“That bitch!” Lady Dimitrescu roared. A heavy looking wooden chair sailed out the window and crashed into the wall several yards away. Damn, Aaron Rodgers who? 

The phone rang again and she roared, in anger before picking it up with a snarling “what?”

“No, Beneviento, I haven’t found the girl yet. I assure you my daughters will find her and you need not worry about whatever rewards Mother Miranda promised you or Moreau.”

Ah, there it was. You weren’t an expert on possibly evil entities but Lady Dimitrescu's outburst about the land coupled with this Beneviento calling to probably gloat or whatever meant that Mother Miranda probably promised a bounty of Lady Dimitrescu’s land to whoever brought you in dead or alive. How exciting. 

“You will keep your hands off my daughters, you bastard. You will not interfere with their searches or I swear by all that is unholy, I will end you and your line.” All that is unholy? Seemed a bit on the nose from the rumors of cults and rituals being done. But there was animosity. And you could use that. Yes. Time to do something utterly stupid and brilliant. 

“I don’t care.” She growled. That was way hotter than it should be. You slowly stood and slung a leg over the windowsill and then the other. Her attention immediately snapping to you, her immediate expression incredulous before morphing into one of rage. 

“Don’t worry. Just pretend I'm not here.” You whisper, giving her a friendly wave. There was a settee near her vanity and desk, large enough to accommodate Lady Dimitrescu. You literally hopped up, your legs swinging like a child in a too tall chair. How fun. 

“I'm here, Beneviento. No, I don’t care if she’s found on your land by my daughters. It will still be my daughters who would have found her.” Her piercing eyes are glaring straight at you. You give her a big grin and a thumbs up. Lady Dimitrescu rolled her eyes and inspected her reflection as she listened to whatever Beneviento was talking about on the other end. 

“Well the longer you spend flapping your gums like the useless bird you are, the closer my daughters get to their prize. Good day, Beneviento.” And then she hung up. She took out a small tube of lipstick and reapplied it before checking her reflection for any more imperfections before she turned in her chair and looked you over. She closed her eyes for a second, seemingly took a deep breath, and opened them again.

“Not a figment of your imagination.” You promise her with a grin.

“Good.” She quickly stood, her hand elongating into knives again.

“You'll get bored.”

Her brow knit in confusion, her hand dropping, “explain.” An order, how sexy.

“Just like I assume you and your daughters have advanced healing properties from whatever gave you your abilities, probably a virus if I had to guess considering how often that seems to be the case, I also have been given abilities. And those abilities make me really hard to kill.”

“And what gave you those abilities?” Her knife fingers turned into just regular fingers. Score!

“Nanomachines, son!” You shoot her a finger gun. 

“Do these ‘nanomachines' also grant you the ability to be extra annoying?”

“Nope!” You reply, heavily popping the “p". “That, my dear, would be the trauma.” Double finger-gun. 

Whatever answer she seemed to be expecting…that wasn’t it. Her face softened for just a moment before hardening again.

“So why climb in my window, in to the jaws of the beast? You heard my phone conversation. You know we are searching for you.”

“You're not a beast.” you wink, “You're too beautiful.” No reaction. Hmm. “and in any case, yeah I heard your phone conversation. With Mother Miranda and Beneviento.” She offered no reply. “Look, my organization told me to come here and gather intel. Our original intel told us that there were disappearances happening and you were the prime suspect and the ring leader. I get here and it turns out that’s not the exact case and someone has you on a leash. And you don’t strike me as the type of woman to like being on a leash.” 

She sighed and rubbed at the bridge of her nose, standing and beginning to pace the room. Fuck, was she tall.

“Think of me as that little cartoon devil on your shoulder.” You offer, “my organization is really good at killing people like you.” 

“People like me?”

“Those with abilities beyond what we call human. Probably given to you by medical tampering or you worked in a lab. Probably an offshoot of Umbrella. If not Umbrella themselves. As it’s always Umbrella.”

“And you got your abilities this way as well?”

Getting off topic, shit, “buy me a drink first. That’s at least a third date conversation topic, Lady Dimitrescu.” You smirk. She shoots you a withering stare in return. No more beating around the bush then. Who knows when her daughters would return. “I want to stay alive. You, probably, want off your leash. We can work together to achieve that. My organization has made worse deals with devils in the past. I play liaison and you get total control of your life back. And more, if you gain control over Beneviento and Moreau's holdings. Plus whatever Mother Miranda herself has. Not to mention that in the end, you would be alive, as would your daughters. Like I said…we're very good at killing creatures like you.” Cards on the table. Now you just had to wait for her to decide. She frowned and went to a bookshelf on the far end of the room, her fingers running over the spines of the books and the various knickknacks that decorated it. 

“I want time to discuss this with my girls.” She says with some finality.

“And how long will that take?”

“It could take hours or days depending on how long it takes us to come to a conclusion. I will let you know when we’ve reached a consensus on the matter.”

How very civil.

“And at the end you'll decide whether or not to kill me. Or at least try. Trust me when I do say you'll get super bored super fast.” You giggle and she shoots you another strange look.

“Yes. Though I can be sporting about it. We'll even give you a head start.” She winked. Be still your beating heart. Oh right. You take a deep breath and let your heart rate return to normal. Yes, it would save some energy but it was also going to make you lethargic and sloth like if it went on too long. 

Lady Dimitrescu shot you a curious look that you return with a smile, “changing my heart rate at will is well within my wheelhouse.” You hop off the settee, stretching and sighing as you feel some delicious cracks run up your spine. “So while you and your daughters have this discussion, will you be taking me prisoner ooooorrrr….?” 

“Like I said, I can be sporting. And civilized. You'll be a guest. Just take care not to wonder off the castle grounds lest Beneviento or Moreau’s men and women find you.”

Too easy. Probably a trap. You force your heartbeat to remain steady, forcibly pushing away the oncoming panic attack you could feel lurking around the edges of your psyche. 

Predators liked it when prey felt comfortable in their trap. Easier to ensnare and eat. Turn it on its head, who kills predators? 

“I thank you for your hospitality.” You bow, not particularly well, but enough to show that you are trying to be respectful.

“You do have manners.” Lady Dimitrescu smirked. You return with a gentle smile.

Hunters. That’s what kills a predator. 

“My children will come home soon. Until then…” Lady Dimitrescu looked you over like a wolf eyeing a prime steak. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t scare you so you pushed that out of your mind, back to the far corners where the panic attacks lurked and waited to jump out. You’d also be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on a bit. That part you let linger, settling into your psyche like a fine mist of perfume. Fuck did you need therapy. 

“My daughters will be back soon, I’ll have the servants make afternoon tea in the meantime.” Lady Dimestrescu gave you a devilish smile. This would be one hell of a mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, you did just NANOMACHINES, SON Lady Dimietrescu and lived. Lucky you.


End file.
